I Am My Father's Daughter
by angelfishlex
Summary: A look into the lives of Connor and Danielle's daughters, Isabella, Delilah and Mary-Kate as they understand their origin story. Spoilers for 'Where No One Stands Alone' & 'I See a Darkness'. THREE-SHOT, with each chapter being through the POV of each girl. Please Read & Review!
1. Isabella Marie, the Blonde

_Izzy's POV:_

My name is Isabella Marie MacManus. I know, it's not the most Irish sounding of names, but my mother thought her daughter deserved a beautiful name as such, along with my dear twin sister, Delilah Anne.

I was now eighteen years old, with my father's caramel colored hair, blue eyes and possessing his spirit within my personality. In short, I tended to act on my instinct as both a sister and a daughter.

And I knew why my father and uncle had to leave my mother behind in America. It was because he was part of a dangerous job assigned only to the kind of people who fought for what they believed in.

To put it bluntly, I was the daughter of a man who spilled other men's blood for the protection of good people, for his brother and for my mother…and for his God.

Needless to say, I found it hard to believe that the Irishman who fathered me and my sister had murdered other men, but I came to understand that he only killed those who were evil.

Like the bastard who raped my mother before Delilah and I were even conceived. He, who almost destroyed what remained of her since she had already lost so much before then…

Delilah and I didn't even meet our father or uncle until we were five years old, but we loved them immediately. We were innocent, young girls shielded from the world by our protective guard of a mother.

Now that Delilah and I were old enough to absorb the dark nature of our parents' story, we tried to the best of our ability to stay calm and stoic at some the heart-wrenching and graphic details.

The mental image of my mother castrating the scumbag who violated her body, her face and hands drenched in his blood from the impact made me shiver with internal rage.

The secret of me and Delilah growing in our mother's womb and her fear of giving our father another burden to bear upon his shoulders when the Saints had been exposed to the public…

The night when she had nearly been killed after the Saints came back… and the death of her dear friend David Greenly.

And later, when Delilah and I had been kidnapped by the masked men who broke into our home and took us away from our parents. To this day, I still had nightmares about it. The blindfold being pressed above my eyes. The bitter aroma with a cloth being forced to my nose to make me be quiet and sleep…

Chloroform…

And when Da thought he had lost my mother forever, found her bleeding in the bathtub. I had to stand and leave the room. The nausea and dizziness made my stomach churn a sickening feeling inside me. The cool air of the outdoors helped as I leaned over the porch railing of our modest cottage and vomited, showing weakness when I was supposed to be the strong one.

I was the elder daughter, after all.

It was my fault I was experiencing this sensation of disgust. I had asked in the first fucking place.

Two warm hands set themselves onto my shoulders as I heard Uncle "Muffy" gently ask me why I'm reacting this way in the Gaelic tongue. His strong grip guided me to sit down next to him on the upper porch step.

That was our special way of communicating as well as practice for me to speak the language of my ancestors.

I explained about my damning curiosity about the past now that I felt I was old enough to take it. I shouldn't have given in to the temptation of digging out the events that were already behind me. It was a locked box I should not have found the key to.

Eve bit into the Forbidden Fruit and look where she wound up…

My uncle softly assured me that it was natural for me to wonder about my family's past, however checkered it was.

The door creaked open as I laid my head on my uncle's shoulder in exhaustion. Da asked his brother in English if I was alright. A cool breeze stroked my sweat-slickened face as my father pressed his lips to the top of my head.

All of a sudden, I felt like little child again, being protected by my two ultimate bodyguards. I turned to my father, intending to explain that I felt better since I had some fresh air. But, before I could, Uncle Muffy had to open his mouth and tell him that I threw up and that I might have a fever, all still in Irish Gaelic…

I couldn't blame them for their concern over me. Perhaps, it was the guilt they felt for not being around for the first six years of mine and my sister's lives.

My head rested again on my uncle's shoulder as Da leaned forward to check my forehead for a temperature. My eyes closed again as I felt my head throb with a slight ache.

Da's voice sounded worried as he removed his palm from my forehead and began to slide his arms under my knees and back. Even in their mid-forties, Connor and Murphy MacManus could still carry us women around like we weighed nothing.

Then, my uncle's voice sounded out in protesting Gaelic as a different pair of arms shifted under me to hold me close again. Da must have let Uncle Murphy hold me instead as I felt my mind float along in between the surface of consciousness and the depths of slumber.

My eyes remained closed as Uncle "Muffy" held me close, his boots creaking on the wooden floor of the cottage as he carried me through the house and presumably into my bedroom. It was one of the childhood perks I still had, pretending to fall asleep so I'd be magically transported to my room.

I didn't care how ridiculous it seemed. My father and uncle didn't mind one bit, even though Delilah and I were teenagers now.

The faint voices of my father and mother faded in my ears as Uncle Murphy made it to my bed and carefully laid me down on top of the comforter.

Turning over onto my side, I reached out for my uncle's hand, hoping he would catch it. He did, murmuring an assurance that I would beat the fever with my father's determination and mother's stubbornness. His fingers latched onto mine as he sat on the edge of my bed, keeping with the tradition of either him or Da staying with me and Delilah until we fell asleep.

They are our dark angels of protection, willing to kill for our safety and to carry us through the flames of evil so we shall not be scorched by them.


	2. Delilah Anne, the Brunette

_Dee's POV:_

My name is Delilah Anne MacManus. People say I mostly take after my mother with most of her characteristics, physical looks and personality included. I had inherited her chocolate brown locks of long hair, her emerald green eyes that my father adored and somehow became the more practical one between me and my sister Isabella.

Our mother always used to joke that the twin with the bigger breasts was the elder one, so I begrudgingly came to terms that the older one had to be Isabella. But, we both had similar reactions to being told what our Da and dear Uncle "Muffy" did whenever they had to leave us for long periods of time.

My father and uncle were vigilantes in the name of God…? And Ma had been raped shortly before being saved by them. Barely any of it could be figured out in my head, and usually I was the deep thinker of the two of us, me and Izzy.

After Isabella ran out onto the front porch with a pale face, I found myself suddenly clutching onto my mother, sobbing out muffled words as I buried my face into her shoulder since I was about as tall as she was.

Now I knew my mother was the strongest woman I had ever known and I looked up to her for as long as I could remember. But, after knowing all the terrible things she had to endure just to get to this point in life, it was more than my comparably weak 18-year-old psyche could take.

As I heard my father attempt to comfort me in the Italian tongue, I wrenched myself away from my parents and went toward the back door of our modest cottage, heading straight to the one place where I could be alone and let out my emotions where nobody would see me.

I could hear my father calling out for me with concern, but Ma broke him off by insisting that I needed some solitary time in my special breakdown place.

The horse stable…

The huge equine creatures whinnied and neighed once they sensed my presence. My personal favorite was a fiery filly whom I had named Juliet after the title heroine in the famous Shakespeare story. Her dark eyes immediately sought me out as I grabbed a nearby wooden stool and placed it in front of her stall door.

Sitting myself down onto the seat, I heard Juliet nicker in concern as I looked up into her oval shaped eyes. They say most animals can sense the emotions of humans, especially horses.

The tears began to pour down my face as I stood up and gently placed my fingers along the filly's black muzzle. She slowly bobbed her nose up so that I was touching her with the palm of my hand. It was as if she was trying to comfort me and assuring me that everything would be okay.

What really concerned me was if I could really accept that my father, uncle and my own mother had human blood on their hands, that of those who did evil.

_Destroy all that which is evil so that which is good will flourish…_

Those words rumbled behind me as I heard the stable door creak open. Turning around to see the intruder, I saw my father standing in the doorway, his tall and strong form illuminated by the evening light outside.

"Delilah, darlin', can we please talk about this?" His voice was gentle and deep, coaxing me into the safety of his paternal tenderness.

"Aye, Da. I'm sorry fer bargin' off like that. Is Izzy alright?" I asked him, walking closer toward the Irishman.

"She's a lil' shaky and she's got a bit of a fever. Yer Uncle Murph just put her in bed." His eyes suddenly blazed with worry when he saw my eyes alight with more emotional tears. "Sweetheart, its okay. She's a strong lass, she'll just need a couple days o' rest."

"No, Da. Its just that…" I tried to explain as the ridiculous sadness along with teenage girl hormones kept me from getting the words out.

"Hey, hey." My father crooned out as he took my hand and pulled me toward the stool by Juliet's stall. He sat down on it and positioned me to perch upon his leg like I was six years old again. He didn't say anything more as I continued to cry, his protective arms enfolding around me. The blond Irishman patiently waited for me to stop sobbing like a baby, just holding me like any good parent would do for their daughter.

I felt him kiss my tear-stained cheek as I finally regained some womanly dignity, all the while still sitting on my father's lap.

"Da…did ya ever…kill any good people?" I asked him in a shaking voice.

"No, o' course not. We also never killed any women or kids, either." He brushed back a stray piece of brown hair from my forehead before planting a kiss on it. "Darlin', ya gotta understand that one o' the reasons we did what we did was because they were the kind o' men who did horrible things to us before you an' Izzy were born. Ya don't know how angry I was when Murph an' I first found yer Ma and the terrible things one o' those bastards did to her. Do ya understand what I'm sayin'?"

He was doing his best to keep his voice low so as to not scare me, but I began to comprehend his words.

"Aye, I think I do. So yer sayin' that the more bad guys ya kill, the less likely me, Izzy, Mary-Kate an' Ma will be found by them." I wiped away another stray tear as he nodded his head in agreement.

"Exactly." He smiled sadly, showing a couple of dimples that formed at the corners of his mouth. "All o' you girls are the most precious things to me an' yer Uncle Murph." As he said that, he placed one of arms behind my back and the other under my knees, slowly lifting me up in his arms as if I were a child again.

"Da, I can walk okay, ya know?" I grinned brightly as I put my arms around his neck in instinctive feeling, even though I knew he would never drop me.

"What? Yer sayin' yer not a 'Daddy's girl' anymore?" He teased me as he walked out of the stable and onto the grass leading back to the house.

"Well, ya never know when a boy could show up at the door, wantin' to take me or Izzy out on a date." I patted his shoulder in a half-mocking way as he pretended to pout.

"All I can say to that, darlin', is that Murph an' I will be preparin' some o' our guns so we can give the lad a proper MacManus greetin'." My father laughed deeply as he carried me toward the house, relishing the moment between us.

I giggled with him, enjoying the security of being in my father's arms, one of the safest places I would ever be in my life.


	3. Maureen Katherine, the Redhead

_Mary-Kate's POV:_

Although most people don't often refer to me as such, my birth name is Maureen Katherine MacManus. I was named after the legendary screen actress Maureen O'Hara by my mother, who has been the strongest female influence in my life.

And despite the fact that I was a mere six year younger than my older sisters, twins Isabella and Delilah, my family felt that I deserved to know the truth about what my dear father and uncle did for a profession that they claimed was in the Lord's name.

Only a month after I was born, my Uncle Murphy and Da left us for a year for a secret mission in America, starting in Chicago according to my mother. Ever since they came back to us, it was pretty quiet and both men were completely devoted to giving their little family of women the best care they could possibly provide.

Now that I was twelve years old, I didn't quite have as much "life experience" or the same upbringing as my older sisters. I was born right here on the great Emerald Isle and I honestly loved my life here. But, since I was still at an impressionable age where I would follow my parents' footsteps, a part of me wondered if one day, either me, Izzy or Dee would be called upon by God to go down the path my father had gone.

I wanted to be strong and brave like my mother and I certainly had inherited my father's Irish temper, as visually represented by my red hair. Of course, I understood the part of the story in which Da was very protective of my mother in the beginning of their 'courtship', if one could call it that.

Their relationship surely didn't start out as the average 'boy meets girl' scenario. It involved fueled arguments, lust, murder and blood. But, I knew that even in the years before I was even conceived, that my parents loved one another with a rare passion that was impossible to destroy.

Both Ma, Da and my rowdy Uncle "Muffy" sat me down like a child and told the story as best as they could to a twelve year old girl who was just approaching the border of female puberty. A majority of it was difficult for me to swallow, especially the parts about Ma being attacked and getting revenge on the man who did her wrong.

I did my best not to cry whenever they told of Da and Murphy leaving behind Ma while she was scared and pregnant with my sisters. Inside, I was angry that they didn't take her with them to Ireland in the first place, but Ma quickly assured me that she had faith they wouldn't be separated forever, and in time, her prediction was rewarded.

My whole body was shaking with goose-bumps as both Irishmen came to sit on either side of me: Da on my left, Uncle Muffy on my right.

The emotions swirling in my mind were becoming divided as I looked about at the adults surrounding me in that moment. Izzy and Dee had taken their horses to race at the beach, so it was only me and my circle of Irish-American family.

My father, with his bright blue eyes that softened as he looked down at me. Uncle Murphy, with similarly colored irises and a half-playful smirk upon his lips as he kissed the top of my scarlet hair. And my beautiful mother, who was still radiant in her mid-30s. The unwavering kindness in her otherwise piercing green eyes and body figure evident of many years of hard work at being a mother never failed to remind me why my Da showed her time and time again that he loved her with all his heart.

In my confused heart, I was able to understand why my father, uncle and mother did what they did. It was so they could protect innocent people like Ma from dangerous criminals, those who wouldn't hesitate to come after me or my sisters.

The mental image of my father and uncle, standing behind a kneeling felon, their guns held to the back of his skull, murderous intent in both men's eyes made me shiver, but I knew I had no reason to fear them.

Uncle Murphy gently helped me up off the couch and suggested that he take me to find my sisters. I agreed instantly, wanting to get out of the house for the moment and try to piece together all the information my pre-teen brain could fathom.

_Ma and Da…pregnant…vigilantism…mobsters…kidnapping…murder …_

But, I wanted to go alone this time…

I asked them all in polite Gaelic, and they all say yes with a bit of reluctance coming from my mother. They all insisted at the same time for me to careful and I quickly assured them that I could ride fine. A quiet smile spread along my lips as I made my way to the door and stepped outside into the afternoon air. Before I turned around the house to get to the stable, something in my gut urged me to look through the window one last time before I left.

Obeying the instinct, I stepped up to the small cottage window, peeking through the foggy glass while standing on my tiptoes. My uncle patted my father's shoulder before walking to the fireplace to poke the wood below the kettle. Da tilted my mother's chin up so their eyes met before kissing her lovingly on the lips. I couldn't help but smile to myself at the sight of my parents still so deeply in love after twelve years of marriage.

Then, I saw what I believed God wanted me to see in that brief moment. Ma took Da's wrist into her hand, pulling his own hand down onto her flat clothed stomach. My father's blue eyes lit up with joy as he smiled down at her again and gave her a kiss that I figured would lead to bedroom delight.

I remembered Ma and Da talking some nights about having another baby soon, hopefully a boy to carry on the MacManus name. Excitement consumed me as I ran to the stable and prepared my brown filly, Rose to take me to the beach. Before I knew it, I was flying along with wind, perched upon my faithful steed on a mission to tell my sisters the happy news. My crimson hair flew all around me as the wet mist moistened my lightly freckled face. One could just call me the adventurous one of the MacManus girls, feeling like a warrior queen riding into battle.

Soon enough, the distant bickering of my sisters reaches my ears as I guided Rose down the sandy dunes carefully. Their words were a mixture of cursing in English and Gaelic as I came closer to see the comical sight. Isabella was standing up in the middle of the boat about 30 feet away from the shore, shouting out for Delilah not to jump into the cold water.

My stubborn brunette sibling did anyway, being the mischievous one. Perhaps Uncle Muffy rubbed off on her too much…

As I dismounted Rose and tied her reins to post that held my sisters' horses, I kept hearing Izzy yell out to Dee, who had disappeared under the water's surface.

"Delilah Anne, get yer ass back up here! Ya better not be drownin' 'cause I ain't comin' in after ya!" Izzy bluffed halfway as I came closer to the shore's edge. She still hadn't noticed me standing there as I removed my shoes and prepared to swim toward the boat myself. "Mary-Kate, what are ya doin' here?"

Isabella was ever the baby sitter when it came to us younger sisters. I somehow pitied Dee for having to put up with her since they were in our Ma's womb. That thought only reminded me of the news I had to tell them. "Uncle Muffy sent me to get yer asses back home! Its Ma!"

"What?" Izzy's vivid blue eyes burned with worry as the boat beneath her feet began to wobble back and forth on the waves. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, how long can she hold her breath?"

I swam further, taking strokes with my arms and legs as I inched closer to the boat. "Izzy, I'd sit down of I were you!"

My attempt to warn her failed as the boat capsized underneath her and she fell screaming into the cold water. "Fuck me!" She most definitely inherited our father's way with words.

Dee's soaked brown head briefly surfaced as she then immersed back under the water, giggling to herself. "Oh, Dee. Yer in deep shit." I smirked to myself as I grabbed ahold of the boat momentarily to rest. My sisters were most likely arguing while taking air under the upside down boat. I might as well have gone check it out and try to stop a bloodbath…

Ducking under the boat's edge, I felt a hand grasp onto my shoulder and pull me up to join both girls under the darkness of the watercraft. "Dee, don't ya think we're gettin' a lil' old fer this shit?" Izzy angrily questioned her while Dee only stared, the water up to her chin as she floated innocently in front of us.

Then, she spit out water into Izzy's face, playfully splashing the cold liquid all around us. Soon enough, we forgot about the prank she pulled and we were suddenly kids again. Then, I started to lose the feeling in my toes…

"Alright, guys. Let's get this thing back up and get to back to shore." Isabella instantly took command of our little trio as we used our combined feminine strength to position the boat back onto the surface. We climbed in, relieved from the cold and used the paddles to get ourselves back to land. "So, is somethin' wrong with Ma, Mary-Kate? Is she sick?" Izzy asked with straight concern. Dee glanced in between me and her, confused.

"No, she's fine. I…I think she…uh…" I couldn't really the words out right.

"Well, can ya give us a hint, lil' one?" Dee playfully used my baby nickname to encourage me.

"I saw Da smilin' at her real big and she put his hand on her belly. An' ya know they've been wantin' a boy fer some time now." A fluttering began in my stomach at the thought of me possibly being a big sister.

"So, Ma's knocked up again, isn't she?" Izzy quickly put the pieces together as we pulled boat up onto the shore.

"Aye, it sure sounds like it." Dee agreed with her as they both beamed at me with apparent happiness.

We walked to our beloved horses, who all perked their ears up at our presence. Rose must have sensed my joy because she began sniffing around my soaked shirt for some treats. After gently scratching the clover-shaped mark between her eyes, I mounted her as my sisters climbed upon their equine companions.

"Whoever gets home last has to ask Great-Uncle Sibeal to say their name in Mass this Sunday!" Izzy shouted as she raced her horse, Laurel, ahead of us at top speed. She was a born rider, just like Da.

"Not so damn fast, cowgirl!" Dee shouted as we kicked our horses faster, flanking side by side as we raced home, the place where we lived, laughed and loved.

As the wind played with my hair again, I closed my eyes for the tiniest of moments and silently recited the family prayer, for a safe passage into our uncertain future.

_And shepherds we shall be_

_For Thee, my Lord, for Thee_

_Power hath descended forth from Thy hand_

_That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command_

_So we shall flow a river forth to Thee_

_And teeming with souls shall it ever be_

_In nomine Patris, et Fili, et Spiritus Scancti_


End file.
